


White Apple

by LadyAmalthea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 07:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20149987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea
Summary: When Amanda Stern passed away, she left her powerful empire to her oldest of three adopted sons, Elijah. With Niles away in Chicago, Connor is left all but alone, wary of his brother's cold-hearted tendencies and jealousy.Meanwhile, Hank Anderson only got involved as a hitman because money was tight. He wants to find a way out of it all.Will either find their happy end?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Fic named after the song "The White Apple" by 'of Verona'

A beautiful, dramatic setting for a funeral is usually on some cloudy day, with dark skies looming with the threat of rain that never comes.

Amanda Stern, whose name had become infamous in Detroit during her reign at the top of the city’s underground world, was not bestowed such a setting for her funeral. In fact, it was a painfully sunny day for January. Hardly any snow covered the ground from the mild winter they had been experiencing, and each of her sons’ shining black shoes sunk down into the muddy turf of the cemetery. 

The three young men stood closest to the outline in the ground; it still wasn’t quite warm enough to properly bury her into the soil. But still, she had been dressed in her favorite silken pantsuit and a handmade shawl. 

Her health had declined rapidly, suddenly. 

Connor remembered sitting beside her in the hospital, reading the “get well soon” messages from her cards, when her lawyer knocked and let himself inside. 

_“Everything to my boys,_” she said.

And her wish was the world’s command.

  
  


As the oldest, Elijah Kamski Stern took over in her place. It was why she adopted him in the first place, after all. Amanda had everything by the age of forty, except for the one thing she couldn’t have of her own. So she spent months going through the process to allow her to adopt, until she found little Elijah. He was a stubborn case; mouthy, but sharp as a whip. She moulded him from a bratty genius into a dangerously powerful young man.

The younger two boys, however, had been a more rushed decision. Elijah wanted a playmate, and it occurred to Amanda that she could easily care for another child, and it would be beneficial for her star prodigy. 

The same social services representative had recommended a case: two boys with a foster family a few hours drive from Michigan. Elijah immediately took to Richard, and Amanda found herself drawn instinctively to the small, yet unnamed baby. 

The babe cooed happily at the small, stuffed dog she had brought to appease the older one. So, she chose the name Connor for him.

The three became the princelings of the underground empire of the Great Lakes region. Elijah, as the oldest and heir, was raised to follow in his mother's footsteps. When his childhood years had ended, he was educated fast, brought into meetings, learned his future trade. As second, Richard was brought in a little later, but Amanda could see early on that his suave and charismatic charm would bring him far, so he was also promised a seat at the table.

But her little baby, her precious Connor, while still educated finely, she promised not to try to sway him into that world after the first few tries. He was too gentle to lead, and asked too many questions about their ethics. 

He would help check the books, but also took online courses to earn a degree. Slowly, he took small things off her plate, things he could easily handle without complaint. Connor cared for his mother, and when she fell ill, he stayed by her side to make sure she was comfortable until she passed.

  
  


And now, she was gone

“She lived her life,” Elijah started solemnly. “She lived the way she wanted to, and found it in her heart to give three lost children a place in the world.” 

Beside her grave, he lit a cigarette, earning a grimace from his youngest brother. “Here? Really?”

Richard stayed quiet, but restrained Elijah when he tried to approach Connor. “We can smoke in the car on our way to lunch, ‘Lijah.” He eyed Connor, and walked shoulder to shoulder with Elijah to their car.

Connor kneeled beside the granite headstone, touching it gently as he ignored the fresh soil that soaked circles into his pants. “Thank you, mother, for all you have done for us,” he said, lip already trembling. “Do you remember that bouquet I bought for your birthday? The one with the lilies and pink roses that you loved?” 

His finger traced her name, not yet worn by the elements. “I have arranged for a bouquet to come every other week for a vase by your portrait at home. When I visit, I'll be sure to bring them to you, here. Would you-” He choked on his words, the bitter sadness that she wouldn't answer him sinking through. “Richard leaves for Chicago tomorrow,” he huffed. “It feels so soon, but… it is what he wants. To expand ourselves, new opportunities. He will make you proud.”

Standing and wiping off his knees as best he could, he kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them on the top of her headstone. “Both of them will make you proud.”


	2. Take Aim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Amanda's passing, things must move on. And, we meet the troubled Hank Anderson.

_ A few years later… _

  
  


Prosperity followed them, even after the matriarch's passing. The branch in Chicago flourished fast, and Richard had taken up permanent residence there. He even found love, as he told Connor in confidence. It was dangerous, surely, to be with your right-hand man. But they were happy, and that was all Connor could hope for his brother.

Elijah ruled with a devilish grin and an iron fist, as he had always been intended to do. He was certainly sharp, no longer a decorative knife that hung on a wall, but a dagger with a blade that could pierce and slice through anything. 

But, he had his vices. The drugs and drinking, of course, but also the desire to be  _ adored _ . He wanted such control of those around him, and did so with his oddly-cold schmoozing, disarmingly kind until he played his hand. 

And parties… he loved his parties.

They helped with staff morale, appeased clients, so they were certainly working. And, it gave Connor something more to do. While he managed the affairs of their family estate, he didn't mind the responsibility of planning the fine parties. 

The grand manor was well suited for such lavish events, like something out of a novel from the Golden Age. He didn't like turning an eye from the harder drugs that were passed around in spare bedrooms and closets, but he did so because no one else really seemed bothered by it.

It was part of their business, after all. But that always bothered Connor.

The warm summer breeze came in through the windows as guests filed inside, dressed in glittery cocktail dresses and silky suits. Connor had a clean cut, fitted outfit on himself; dark slacks and a grey vest. He made it a habit of mingling with the guests to attend to any needs, sometimes chatting with some of the associates that would come by.

From across the room from where he was enjoying a drink, and listening to one of their clients tell a story for the hundredth time, Connor noticed his brother looking his way. His assistant, a prim blonde who always had a compact mirror on her. She was mostly nice, just a little vain like her boss. He watches as she leans over to Elijah, whispering something, and then he storms off in a fit.

Connor isn’t sure what is wrong, but he knows it’s best if he doesn’t get involved.

  
  


\-----

  
  


Enter Hank Anderson. 

Hank didn’t  _ do _ parties with the mob. It’s strictly business for him. He’s an ex-cop, a widower and lost his son a few years ago. He was fired after a bad alcoholic streak, and needed cash in a bad way. So, with his knowledge of the local police force and his brute strength, he offered his services to Amanda and has been doing side jobs with them ever since.   
  
It was not with an air of pleasantness that he entered the grand manse, he didn't appreciate being called out in the middle of the night, but it's part of his blood-stained contract with this kind There’s the cloying, tempting stench of alcohol as he entered Elijah’s office that night, which can only mean trouble. 

“Whattya need?” He asks, hands folded respectfully in front of him.   
  
“My brother… Connor. I want him  _ gone _ .”

That certainly caught Hank’s attention fast, “What?”   
  
The spindly and suited man staggered, “He’s plotting to betray me, to overthrow  _ me _ ,” Elijah growled out the lie. “Tell him… tell him I’ve ordered him to take a vacation. Drive him up to our lake house and…” he threw a glass across the room. “And make sure he never comes back! Do you understand?”

“Sir, maybe you should-”   
  
“NOW!” Elijah yells.

There's a flash of something wild, possessively hateful. Just as Hank nods and turns to leave the office, Elijah spoke up again.   
  
“And… to prove that you’ve done what I asked, I want you to cut out his heart and bring it back to me.”

Shaking his head, Hank grimaced, “Mr. Stern, with all due respect, that isn’t exactly my area.” He winces, “I’ll take him out, but I’m not going to perform fuckin’ surgery. I kill, I dispose of the body, and that’s where my job ends..”

The mob leader rolled his eyes, “Is it a money thing?”

“Uhhh-”   
  
“Because if it’s a money thing,” Elijah tugged open one of his drawers, pulling out a wad of cash and a file folder. “I’ll pay you triple your usual rate,  _ and _ you can be relieved of your services with us, if you desire. No more calls, no more requests, not a word from us.”

Hank’s mouth dropped open; he had wanted to get out of this for a while, worried that one day he was going to get caught. So the glistening offer is in front of him on a silver platter. The thought of cutting out someone’s organs still sickened him, but he shook Elijah’s hand in agreement.

“What’s the address? I’ll tell the kid to pack his things.”

Taking a swig straight from a bottle, Elijah smirked, “Good.”

Hank is fairly underdressed for the occasion, but is still greeted warmly by some familiar faces that he has seen at the few “company” meetings and speeches when the boss addressed everyone. He waved hello to Ben, another ex-cop who is on the business side of operations. As far as their friends knew, Ben retired and opened a small diner, but it was really a front for clients to talk business in person.

“You seen Connor around?” Hank asked a small group of dealers who are chatting away. They gestured toward one of the balconies off of the dining room, and Hank nodded his thanks.

He had only seen the young man a handful of times, definitely taken with his looks but never got to know him firsthand. Richard, who he had met once or twice, had joked that Connor wasn’t really interested in the “family business”, but was more or less stuck where he was. All three of the boys were kept fairly isolated; if Connor left, where would he even go?

Out in the night air stood the young man, his back turned to the bustling energy inside as he looks out over his mother's rose garden. The petals were starting to wither with the end of the season, carried by the wind across the footpaths like snow flurries. 

“Uhh… Mr. Stern?”

The brunet didn’t turn around at first, until Hank cleared his throat. Connor spun to look at him, a dark blue jacket covering his shoulders. His hair is a sweet brown, and his matching, earthy eyes sparkled as they reflected the party lights. 

“Yes? Oh-” Connor’s eyebrows lifted up, and he gave a slight smile. “I apologize… I don’t remember your name, but I know I have seen you around. Can I help you find something?” Like music spilling from his tongue, his tone is smooth and sure. 

It was torturous for Hank to stand there and make the words come out. “The bossman said he wants you to take a vacation. Just asked me to come get you.”

“The party will probably last another few hours, I don’t think I-”

“It sounded like he wanted it to be a quiet thing,” Hank interrupted, playing cool through the fib. “A whole week up at the lake house for yourself... for all you’ve been doing lately.”

The smile doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows, as does the pit in Hank’s stomach. “That’s very kind of him. I’ll be ready to leave by morning.”

“He said you could take off now, if you like,” he urged gently, and hitched his thumb toward the crowd inside. “They can handle things here without you, right?”

There's a longing in the young man's face as he looked inside, and Hank followed his gaze. No one in there would miss him for a moment if he left, other than the possibility of a shortage of cocktail napkins, and the next morning when it looks like a disaster zone. Connor looked through the open door and windows, as if looking for someone.

“Would you care to follow me upstairs?” He asked, and lifted up his glass of champagne from the ledge.

Hank shrugged an agreement, following deftly through the stuffy rooms full of people laughing and loudly discussing all manner of topics. It was a bit of a mental whiplash when he followed his charge through the kitchen, as if going through a drive-thru as Connor left instructions to the remaining staff. In one swinging door, and out another, he almost thought  _ he  _ was the one getting set up as Connor hurried them up a set of emergency stairs. He pushed open a door on the second floor, leading them into a lush hallway, and finally stopped by the first door on the left. 

While the fixtures matched the rest of the house, the bedroom was furnished and decorated a bit more comfortably, more simply. A nest of pillows at the head of the unmade bed, an overflowing bookshelf, and a nook near the bay window which overlooked the garden where a laptop and several binders sat. Connor even took a look at them, as if debating their necessity on a trip like this. He only took the laptop and it's charger, and left the rest to gather some clothes.

While learning against the door, Hank made a few more observations from what he could glean from it all. This single room felt more lived-in than the rest of the manor, and yet in a way , more meager even compared to his dingy place in the suburbs. 

“You're a driver, then? Is that why I recognize you?’

It was a bit of relief that Connor didn't know who he was. But, it seemed unreasonable that Elijah's reason for all this was the threat of this younger brother. He figured the reason was a lie or exaggeration, but as long as he got paid and got out he didn't care much. 

Hank had learned the hard way to just start ignorant to all the drama. 

But then… what was really the reason? 

“Yeah, I have a few talents that are put to use here, having a driving license ain't nothing special.”

Connor chuckled as he folded a shirt into his duffle bag, “Well, there must be a good reason. Perhaps it's your charm?”

Clearing his throat, Hank rolled his eyes, “That's certainly not it.”

“I'm going to change into something more suitable. If you like, you should grab something to eat downstairs before we leave. It's a long drive, and- oh! I'll bring some cash for coffee.”

“Yeah yeah, I'll be downstairs at the front door,” he shrugged off and shut the door behind.

He knew when it was his cue to leave, even if his dirty thoughts begged him to stay and watch the young man undress. It had been too fucking long since he was laid, and he would be lying if he said he didn't have a type. But this was another job, not the time to form some kind of attachment.

He had a job to do, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.... after this updates won't be as regular, but I'm glad so many people seem excited!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to start posting this when it was closer to being finished, BUT I just want to start getting it out there! 
> 
> Like it? Want more?
> 
> Leave a comment & give me a shout over on Twitter! 
> 
> @canticumexvacui


End file.
